The Gift
by JonMan94
Summary: Its the beginning of the holiday season, and one young musician isn't having a very merry holiday. Despite doing what he loves, he hides his problems and emotions under the facade of being a local rockstar. Everything changes however when he is presented with a gift that could possibly turn his life around, something he has always searched for but could never find: a true companion


**Chobits: The Gift**

Chapter One

Late night in Tokyo, and in a city rivaled only by other metropolises like New York for its late-night crowds, the crowds were in the bars and clubs, one of these clubs however, was enjoying an up and coming musician, one who has played the small venue circuit for quite a while. He was solo that evening, an acoustic guitar in his lap, playing the blues like there was no tomorrow. Standing near the bar was a man, well dressed, another leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand, nodding with a smile on his face.

"So, you think he deserves what I have to give him, eh?" said the sharp-dressed man, the other nodding, taking a sip of his brandy, for it was rather cool outside that evening, it was already the end of November, after all.

"Yes, he does sir. He's played at all of your businesses a couple times already, by himself and with his band. I can't think of a more humble kid to give such a nice gift too."

"I see" he replied, the gig winding down, the last few chords being strummed, the young man noodling out the ending of the song, the crowd clapping and snapping fingers. The musician stood up from his stool, bowing to the crowd, giving a nice "thank you" into the mic, waving everyone good night as he walked off to the side of the stage to grab his gig-bag, the man waiting for him there.

"Why hello there, son. Excellent performance tonight I must say."

"Thank you sir. Who are you again? You look familiar."

"My name is Mr. Hasegawa. I own this business and many others around the city, and from what I have heard from my managers, you have drawn many a crowd to my bars and clubs, very impressive. Now then, what might be your name?"

The boy straightened up upon hearing Mr. Hasegawa's reply, nodding with a small amount of nervousness, hoping he didn't look too shabby to this wealthy man.

"Kioshi, sir. Thank you for the kind words. Was there something you wanted to ask of me?"

"Actually, I have something to give you, an early gift for the holidays. Think of it as a thank you from me and my employees for your patronage and for bringing good music to the masses who come to drink and enjoy the company of others here in my place."

Kioshi looked at him, wide-eyed. He was completely awe-struck by the prospect, the manager of the club wheeling out a large box, about a foot taller than he was, the sound of a van driving up to the curb could be heard outside.

"It's a big surprise, and to help you bring it home, I have called a cab for you tonight. I hope you will enjoy this gift, it's something that you will never forget."

"Why thank you, . I don't know what else to say but thank you."

"You're welcome, son. Now then, I assume you have other things to do tomorrow? I don't want to hold you here for too long."

"Oh yes, I do." Kioshi said as the manager followed him out with the box. When he got to the door, he looked back and waved to everyone who was still there, all of them waving back, the big man smiling as he waved to the young man as well, and before he knew it, Kioshi found himself back home, a small one-story house in a suburb a good drive away from the bar he had just gigged at. He arrived to his door, pulling the box into his home from out of the cold, setting it down in his living room, his gig-bag being set down next to it, finally collapsing onto the couch, exhausted.

_What kind of a gift is this? It's not an instrument of I know of that could be that heavy, unless it's something really old._

He sat up, looking at the box, nerves starting to fray from the question plaguing him. He went to grab a box-cutter, and upon returning, he stabbed the box, cutting the side that he was looking at. When he was finished, he pulled open a huge flap, revealing was inside. He almost fainted upon laying eyes on the box's contents.

In a sea of packing peanuts, there was a girl, right around his age, if not younger, wrapped gently in expensive linens, her face soft and innocent, yet its expression seemed… sad. He was about to scream, but upon closer inspection, he found that she had no ears under her long, crimson hair, just plastic covers that revealed an array of networking jacks. This was no corpse, but the most advanced piece of technology anyone with the cash to throw around could ever get: a persocom.

He gawked over the computer, completely blown away its presence. It felt like hours to him, staring at it, but he shook his head, taking a deep breath, a smile on his face. He carefully picked up the girl from the box, setting her down on the floor; carefully unwrapping her from the linens, only to find that she had nothing more than a thin white dress on. He blushed, the cloth slightly transparent, teasing him with her figure and body. He had seen persocoms nude before while being repaired, and normally, there was nothing to look at, but to his surprise, this one was adorned.

_Damn, must have shelled big bucks out on me, this isn't just some production model._

He re-examined her ears, and one of them was labeled with a peculiar logo and name, a serial number inscribed at the bottom of it.

_Ventura Custom Shop, #1000-0707-20xx_

He couldn't make anything of the serial number, shrugging to himself as he went back to the box, searching the sea of packing peanuts for anything else that may come with her. He found a plastic bag with small tools and a charger, but even important was a manila envelope, marked with the word _warranty _on it. He pulled out the booklet, a manual with log-in information and a letter stating he has to re-register the persocom within one week under in his own name in order to receive the full warranty and ownership certificate. Kioshi glared at the paper, shaking his head, but as he slipped the papers back into the folder, a parchment letter slid into view. He noticed it, pulling it out, the words on it hand-written with an ink pen.

_To whoever receives this persocom, I hope you will take care of her and take her for who she is. You may think she's just a computer, but from the short time I have been with her, I saw that she was something more. She was tossed aside, like an old toy by her previous owner. Please don't let her down. _

The signature was blurred cursive, the ink smeared by being inside the envelope before it dried completely. He took a good, long look at the persocom, its expression neutral, sad even. He nodded, putting everything down but the manual, looking inside it to figure out how to turn her on. He found what he needed, setting the booklet down, walking back toward her. He kneeled down to her level, cradling her with his left arm, the other pushing her hair out of the way, revealing her other ear. He felt around it for a small notch, and upon finding it, he pushed it up.

Immediately he felt her body become tense, the sound of a computer silently coming on-line, her eyes slowly opening with a bright green glow, signaling she was booting up. After a few moments, she blinked her eyes a deep emerald color. She slowly turned her head, taking in her surroundings, but even more so, the man who had awakened her. She felt off, feelings from deep down the only remains of her previous life, of which she has no recollection of. She ran through her database, only to find that this was not her first boot-up. Someone had wiped her memory clean.

"…Where am I?" she asked with a sweet voice, Kioshi starting to catch on.

"You're in my house; someone gave you to me as a gift. What is your name?"

She looked at him, trying to remember her name, but what disturbed her was how she had gotten here. She was given away? For what reason? She felt something from within, a confusion of feelings and sensory overload. She could only identify it as something that only humans could feel: pain. She sat up from his lap, still trying to remember her name, slowly standing up to examine herself.

She looked around the place, the living room simple as it could be, but in the other corner of the room was musical gear, ranging from guitars and basses to an electronic drum set, even a synthesizer was present. After a few more moments, she finally remembered her name. She turned around to face him, her expression melancholic, Kioshi smiling in relief.

"I remember now. My name is Rima. Are you my new master?"

Kioshi nodded, though the idea of being called 'master' didn't feel right to him.

"I am; my name is Kioshi Ito. I prefer that you don't call me master constantly, just call me by my first name, okay?"

"Understood." She replied with a slight nod, Kioshi smiling as he began to clean up the mess he had made unpacking her, not noticing that the door had open as he was talking, a very serious woman walking in, her voice calling him out with an annoyed tone.

"Kioshi! Who are you talking to?"

The other jumped up and turned around to see who it was. It was his older sister, Amaya.

"Oh, Hey sis, I didn't know you were coming by to visit…"

"And who the hell might this be?"

"Oh, I just got her today, it was gif…"

"Oh hell no, you got a persocom?" She went right up to him, passing by Rima, her brown eyes seething with rage, her brother's eyes looking back at her with fear.

"Are you that lonely and desperate here!? You could have just asked me to come by more often, you know?"

"I didn't buy her; she was gift from the man who owns a couple of the places I have gigged at over the past few months."

"Oh?" she sneered, looking at Rima with a suspicious glare. She got right back into her brother's face, a finger poking him hard right under the chin.

"So you're telling me some rich guy just gave you his old toy for raking in the cash?"

"Excuse me, mam" Rima said, cutting Amaya off, getting in between the siblings. The sister was stunned, the persocom's expression serious and annoyed. She was shocked by her behavior, unable to believe this was her new master's close relative.

"I know what I am and I do take insult to being called a toy, for I am far from someone's plaything. I am a VCS persocom, created by one of Japan's finest custom builders. Whatever my old master's reasons were for giving me away, that is none of your business. Why are you so rude and discouraging to your brother? I assume you're the elder sibling, correct?"

"Did you just talk back to me?" Amaya growled, getting into Rima's face.

"I am. The name's Amaya, and I don't suppose you wouldn't mind me taking you down a notch right no…"

"Just stop it, Amaya! Enough!"

Kioshi got in between them, standing in front of his new companion, a distressed expression on his face. He had enough of this aggression from not just his sister, but Rima, for he was just as surprised as she was when she came in to explain for him.

"It's late and I just want to rest. Can you just tell me what you wanted and be on your way? I know you have other things to do, like you always do, or are you actually not busy for once?"

Amaya looked at him, gritting her teeth. She exhaled, annoyed, flipping her arms into the air. She produced an envelope from her pocket, tossing it at him with distaste.

"I only came to drop off your allowance for December. If I had it my way, I wouldn't even need to be here, but it's what mom wants. Sometimes I wonder…"

"Can you just leave us alone now?"

"Fine, I will leave. Have fun with your toy."

Amaya simply walked out, slamming the door behind her, Rima grunting with anger. She was about to speak her mind, but her master needed her. Kioshi collapsed on the couch, the envelope on the floor. Rima picked it up, looking back to her master. His hands covered his face, frustrated with the confrontation. He felt embarrassed, weak to his sister's words. After all, she's the elder sibling, and she was entrusted with handling their mother's will after she passed away all those years ago. He was posed to fall asleep there on the couch when a cool hand uncovered his face, gently caressing his cheek.

"Kioshi, are you okay?"

He looked into her eyes, seeing something he never thought possible from persocoms: genuine concern. Their eyes were usually empty, devoid of any real emotion, just a colored piece of plastic covering a camera, but hers… they were detailed, sparkling with the same kind of sparkle a real human's eye would, but after staring into them long enough, he could see the camera, zooming in and out ever so slightly to focus on his saddened face.

"I'm fine, Rima. I apologize for my sister, she's just… stressed out." He sat up, slouching, his arms resting on his thighs, looking up to Rima, the girl tilting her head, curious of him and his sister.

"What happened to her?"

"She moved out a while ago, right after she finished college to be closer to her new job. She's been in charge ever since our mother died, and I guess that's where it began." He paused, looking away from her before shaking his head, too weary to tell her his life's story. "But enough about me, I don't really want to get into the details, especially this late." he stood up, looking at the mess he was going to clean up before his sister barged in. He shook his head, walking past it toward the bedroom, Rima's eyes following him just as he opened the door. He looked back to her, a smile barely opening across his face. He felt something inside himself, solely triggered by the persocom's act of care for him, her master. Something he hasn't felt in a very, very long time.

"Shall we go rest?"


End file.
